The Darkest Hour
by Oo.Lucilla.oO
Summary: Kurt just wanted to help him. He felt responsible for the guy. But the more he tried to, the more he realised that it was not help that boy wanted from Kurt. And now he finds himself more scared than he has ever been. And he is damn right to be terrified.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hi guys! I am deeply sorry I rewrote most of this chapter, I changed my mind about some facts. So here is the second version !  
>So, this is my first fanfic' ever, and English is not my native language, so please, be kind! Yet, constructive criticism is very welcome!<br>My first chapter is intentionally short, it is sort of an introduction. Just to make your mouths water... (hopefully!)

Chapter 1

**Present day…**

The world was black. The air was cool and there was not an ounce of wind. Not that it mattered, but it was the first thing Kurt noticed when he woke up. For some odd reason, he could not open his eyes. Like his eyelids were too heavy to be lifted. He tried to move and two things struck him right away. First, the awful pain that shot all over his body, and for a second, he wished he would die so the pain would disappear. Second, he was not on his bed; he was clearly on the floor. And not the floor of his house, because it was not made of wood at home.

Even if he had just woken up, he felt tired, oh so tired. And that was probably the reason he could not open his eyes. He had to go home so that he could sleep three days in a row. He felt like he really needed it. He must have had an exhausting day, but he could not recall what he had done. Thinking of it, he could not recall anything at all. But it did not matter; he was far too tired to bother, anyway. The exhaustion pushed aside many questions he should have been asking himself. Like, why am I in so much pain? Where the hell am I? Why is it complete darkness? … _What is going on? _He would have been completely panicked if he was not so fuzzy. But he was, and every rational thought was erased from his mind.

He stayed in this state for a while, lying awake on the floor. But then his body started aching too much. He had to get up and go home. But in order to do that, he had to open his eyes first. So he tried, and tried, and tried again, but nothing. Still complete darkness. But now he was not so sure if his eyelids were the problem, or if it was the room that was plunged in the darkness. Anyway, he had to get up.

Standing up took him more time, more effort, and more pain than he would have thought was possible. First, he had had to turn around so as not to be facing the floor. And he could feel his ribs throbbing and his stomach was stinging like he had scraped himself badly. Sitting up had also been a big deal. Because as his ribs hurt so much, he had had to help with his arms, and when his right hand had come in contact with the floor, he had yelled in pain. Something in his hand was broken, that was for sure. He had briefly thought of a car accident, which would have explained the injuries, but not the fact that he was apparently inside a house or a building. Anyway. Then, he had taken a deep breath, well as deep as his ribs allowed him, and tried to put all his weight on his legs to get up. Surprisingly enough, this movement was not really difficult or painful. The bottom part of his body had apparently been spared. And so there he stood, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness, because it was now clear that he had his eyes open. He had blinked a few times to make sure; and it had been painful, but possible.

But after just a few minutes standing, he started feeling dizzy and light-headed. And if he had been in pain so far, it was _nothing _compared to what he could feel now. He almost collapsed from the pain. Every single part of his upper body ached terribly. But he had to get out of here. He had to get home. His father would take care of him. His father always took care of him. And right now he was scared, and he needed the reassurance of his father's arms around him. He needed to be told that everything was going to be okay.

So, he started pacing around, feeling the walls in search of a door, an opening, anything that could get him out of here. He could feel his strength fading away quickly. He tripped over something that sounded like a piece of wood and heard it roll on the floor. He almost lost his balance but the wall was here to hold him up. He leaned against it, closed his tired eyes and breathed deeply. He had to stay awake; he had to find someone. Straightening himself weakly, he resumed his searching. And finally he found a door and blindly stepped through it. Still total darkness. Something was off; he should be able to see at least a little bit of light somewhere. He was trembling now. His legs were quivering, like they would not hold him much longer. So, he took a few quick steps and ran into another door. He fumbled with the handle and finally got it opened. Fresh air hit his face and he could hear the distant noise of traffic. He was outside. He was about to take a step further, but his foot never came in contact with the ground. This time he lost his balance and rolled down what he painfully understood was a flight of stairs. He was unconscious by the time he hit the pavement.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Present day…**

The first time he woke up, he did not even open his eyes; a throbbing headache was clouding his mind. He could vaguely hear voices talking around him. He did not try to stay awake, instead letting himself drifting back into a deep sleep.

Bip… bip… bip… It was the first thing Kurt heard when he regained consciousness. It was one of those weird times when you wake up and you have no clue what time it is, how long you have slept, what happened the day before and what must happen today. He didn't even know where he was. The only thing that could help him was that annoying noise repeating over and over again that was starting to get to him. Where did it come from? He did not remember having anything like that in his bedroom. He would have smashed it against the wall a long time ago. Not opening his eyes, Kurt tried to focus. What day was it? He needed to know if he had to get up to prepare for school or if he could stay in bed for a little while longer. But even without moving, he felt drained. He was even unable to just open his eyes. So, of two possibilities, one, he had slept only a few hours and he still had time before having to get up; two, he was running a fever and then, he would skip school today. It was more likely the second possibility, because he could feel a throbbing headache slowly making its way, clouding his mind. As he made to reach for his phone that was usually on his nightstand, he could not suppress a hiss of pain. Why did his ribs hurt so much?

"Kurt?" It was his father's voice and it was shaking.

Kurt understood at that point that something was off.

He slowly opened his eyes and realised it was really harder a task than it should be. His eyes simply would not open. Weird… Creepy would be even more accurate. He tried to turn his head to where he had heard his father's voice, but that simple movement caused an unbelievable amount of pain throughout his body. Now, he was scared.

"Dad?" he said, panicked. "Dad, what's going on? Why can't I move?"

He wanted to grasp his father's hand, but his own hand was confined in some sort of vice.

"Kurt, buddy! How are you feeling?" Burt seemed to be very close to him. Kurt felt a hand brushing a few strands on his forehead. "Kurt, I need to go find a nurse to tell them you're awake, I'll be back in no time."

Kurt did not have time to protest, his dad was already gone. Find a nurse? Was he missing something? _What was he doing in a hospital? _He could not push his reflection any further as he heard his father come back. He could smell a female perfume and guessed that he had indeed found a nurse.

"Hello, there!" she said, and Kurt could hear a smile in her tone of voice. "Finally awake, are we? That's good news!"

_Finally?_ Had he been out that long? And again, _what was he doing in a hospital?_

"Are you alright, kiddo?" His father must have seen the look on his face.

"No. no, I'm not!" Kurt finally spoke, "What's going on? What am I doing here?"

"You don't remember?" Oddly, his father sounded relieved.

"Remember what?" Kurt was breathing heavily now, trying hard not to hyperventilate, "I don't remember anything! I can't see and I have no freaking clue what I am doing here and why I'm aching all over!"

"Alright Kurt, listen to me." It was the nurse. "Breathe slowly through your nose. You have to calm down. Just take a deep breath, count to three, and release. I'll do it with you, alright?" She was speaking calmly, inhaling and exhaling deeply to show him how to proceed.

Kurt tried to focus on her breathing. _Deep breath, count to three, release. Deep breath … _He started to relax in the bed. The room fell silent and he could feel his heart coming to a reasonable pace. He waited a few more minutes to make sure he would not have another fit of panic. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Are you alright, son?" Burt finally whispered.

Kurt hesitated but then nodded.

"Dad, what happened?" He asked. His voice was soft, but it was clear that he desperately needed an answer, "What am I doing here?"

He waited for an answer that was long to come. His father was visibly struggling over what to say. Was it so bad? Burt cleared his throat.

"I don't know what to tell you. I got a call from a stranger telling me that he saw you rolling down a flight of stairs, that you were unconscious and that he had called an ambulance. I don't even know where that happened. I got to the hospital at the same time the ambulance did. And I saw you on the stretcher. You were…" he took a deep breath, "You were bleeding and you were unconscious and so, so pale… and I thought you were… but you're fine now, Kurt."

Kurt had had very few occasions to hear his father cry. In fact, he was positive that Burt had only allowed himself to cry in front of his son the day Kurt's mother died. And Kurt had hated it. His father was supposed to be the stronger one, even if it was childish and unfair. So, Kurt wanted to tell his dad that there was no need to cry, that everything was going to be okay and that he was fine. But he did not know that. He was in so much pain. What if some of his injuries could not be fixed? What if his spinal cord had been damaged?

"Kurt?" The nurse was close to him, clearly noticing his scared face. "I've been taking a look at your file. You're fine. The paramedics took good care of you all the way to the hospital, and then you were immediately taken into surgery. You had some internal bleedings that needed to be taken care of, but everything went well."

Kurt released a breath he did not know he had been holding. He was fine. No permanent damage. No wheelchair. Still…

"So why can't I see? Because, I've been trying to open my eyes since I woke up, but nothing!"

"What?" His father sounded surprised.

He suddenly felt the gentle hands of the nurse on his face. "Can you see the light, Kurt?" Kurt scoffed. _See the light… We are not in Ghost Whisperer! _But then he got what she meant, and his smirk disappeared.

"I can't see any light, my eyes are closed!" He shouted. "I told you, I can't open them!"

He was annoyed and scared.

"Kurt, you really can't see a thing?" The voice of his father was hesitant and seemed frightened. "Because, I can see you, and I can tell your eyes are very much open…"

"But… No, my eyes are closed" Kurt answered softly, dread suddenly running down his spine, "I can't see anything…"

Kurt felt a rough hand grip his arm gently. His father's hand. A few tears reached his eyes as realisation downed on him. He was…

"Kurt?" his father's voice was shaking again. "Don't go imagining things that could not be. The nurse just left and I think she will come back with a doctor so that you can be checked out."

But Kurt was not listening anymore. He knew he was not imagining things. He could not – see – a thing. There was only one word for this kind of problem. But he was not ready to say or hear it.

The door opened and he heard several people coming in. Soon, he felt crowded as doctors began examining him, putting their hands on his eyelids to open his eyes larger. He could hear the clicking noise of small flashlights being turned on to take a closer look at his eyes. No one talked to him. It was like he was not here. He tried to be patient; he knew they were trying to help, make him feel better. That's what doctors did. But his father had never been a patient man.

"So?" He said, very impatiently, "What's the problem?"

There was a moment of silence and Kurt was sure they were having a silent conversation. Suddenly, his father pressed his arm softly.

"I'll be right outside, buddy. Call if you need anything."

And of course, they were taking this conversation in the hall. They didn't want Kurt to hear anything disturbing. But they were just confirming his fears. When Kurt did not hear the door close completely, he tried to overhear whet was being said in the corridor. He only managed to catch a few words like "run some more tests", or "post-traumatic blindness", but then someone must have noticed the door was open, because Kurt heard it slam closed. From what he had caught, he was blind. But he watched a lot of TV shows, he knew what post-traumatic blindness was. He knew it could be only temporary. That was a good point in all his misery. The door opened again and closed immediately after. Only one person was there.

"You heard, huh?"

Kurt nodded to his father. "Not everything, though." He snorted. "Until now, I thought post-traumatic blindness only existed in cinema. I would have never believed one could lose sight just because of what happened to them… And now it's happening to me."

His father did not comment. They both fell silent, lost in their thoughts.

"The doctors said that it could help if you remembered what happened to you. Once you do, they can start the healing process, with a therapist and all."

Kurt sighed. "The problem is I don't have the slightest idea of what happened. I'm trying to remember, trying really hard, but nothing."

"Take your time. You also need to rest, it's important."

But Kurt knew it would be impossible to find sleep now that he was aware of the situation.

"I don't think I'll be able to rest as long as I don't know what happened."

Kurt heard his father sigh and shift in his seat next to Kurt's bed.

"Before you woke up, I talked a lot with the doctors. And given what they told me about your injuries, I have a few ideas about what could have happened to you. But, I'd rather you remember by yourself. So, I'll leave you some time. Try to concentrate on the last memory you have, what you were doing at the time, where you were going. And then, try to go on like that."

Kurt tried a bit, but he was afraid of what he might discover.

"What if it doesn't make my sight come back? What if I go mental when I remember?" He was shaking slightly. "Because, what would be so traumatizing that…" But as he was asking the question, the answer came by itself, clear in his head. A series of pictures popped in his mind. Very short scenes, no, _memories_ were coming back to him. And Kurt felt like dying. _No_. He fell back on his pillow and stopped interacting with the world.

"Kurt? Kurt, buddy, are you ok?" Burt had just seen his son fell limp on his bed. His eyes seemed even more lost than before and it was like he had gone somewhere far away in his mind. And that was scaring the shit out of Burt. He quickly clicked the emergency button and a nurse came and checked Kurt's vitals.

"He is in shock. Don't worry Mr Hummel, your son is fine. But what happened? What made him like this all of a sudden?"

So Burt explained the situation.

"Well, I think he managed to remember." The Nurses said, while sadly watching the limp body on the bed. "Maybe his mind wasn't strong enough to take it."

"What?" Burt exclaimed, scandalized. "But the doctors said…"

"The doctors don't know your son, nor do they know what happened to him. I'm sorry Mr Hummel."

"So, what now?" He asked in a small voice, afraid of the answer.

The nurse looked at him, and then at Kurt. "Only time will tell."

Burt fell back on his chair, devastated. He had been encouraging his son to remember, and for what? His son seemed even worse than before. What was he supposed to do, now? He suddenly realised that Kurt was whispering something. Standing up and leaning against the bed, Burt tried to decipher what he was saying, and was very surprised by what he heard.

"Puck… I want to see Puck."


	3. Chapter 3

**Two months ago…**

It had all started so quietly. Kurt had really thought that the dark times were over. He had just come back to McKinley, his main bully was not a problem anymore, and most of all he had gotten himself the most awesome boyfriend ever. Blaine had been all but supportive when Kurt had decided to transfer back to his old high school. Kurt knew very well that he was sad to see him leave, he had talked with Wes and the boy had told him Blaine was indeed very depressed. But he never showed it.

"_Just, stay careful, okay?"_ Blaine had told Kurt one night over the phone. _"The whole situation turns mostly around getting elected Prom King and Queen; and Karofsky apologized a bit quickly to my taste."_

Kurt smiled. Blaine cared so much! He had always been very protective. But now that they were in different schools, he had taken the habit of calling him every night to check on him. They would talk for over an hour, relating their day, talking about the Warblers, the New Directions, and anything that came to mind. Talking to Blaine was natural. He would listen to anything Kurt said, giving his opinion, nodding, laughing… he was just perfect.

"Don't worry" Kurt said, trying to reassure his boyfriend, "all the boys from Glee club have decided to form some sort of perimeter around me, like I am the Queen of England or something. Puck even said he doesn't want me out of his sight at any time from the moment I leave my car to the moment I climb back into it…"

"_Good, I like this guy."_ He was laughing, but Kurt knew that he meant it.

"Well yes, it's very kind of them, but the whole situation will quickly get annoying for me. And Karofsky isn't even a problem anymore!" He was acting like a child and he knew it. His Gleemates were just being good friends. But Kurt was a very independent boy, and being followed constantly was hard to cope with.

"_You don't know that for sure."_ Blaine cut him. _"This boy doesn't seem like the most stable guy ever. And he can do all the apologies he wants; it will take a lot more for me to ever trust him."_

They stayed silent for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

"I miss you…" Kurt breathed out, more to himself than to Blaine. He heard a sigh at the other end of the line.

"_You have no idea how much I miss you too, Kurt. I had gotten used to seeing you everyday at school; and now, you're not here anymore…"_ He must have realised what he was saying, because he quickly added, "_Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you had the opportunity to go back to your old school. I'm totally with you on this one. It's just… not the same anymore."_

"We can work it out, Blaine. I know we can. We will meet on week ends and you'll come over during holidays. It's not perfect, I know, but I'm sure we can make it work." Kurt really wanted to believe in what he was saying. Now that he had met Blaine, the most incredible person on the planet, he could not picture himself without the boy at his side. He had been there in one of the darkest periods of his life, supporting him when no one did, advising him, and making him smile again. Life just would not be the same without Blaine.

"_Of course we will, babe. I'm crazy about you…"_

Things did not turn out the way both boys would have liked. As weeks passed, between family time and homework, they could hardly see each other. And it was not for lack of trying. Talking over the phone was one thing, but Kurt missed Blaine physically, his scent, the look on his face when they were talking, and all the small things that made him his boyfriend. And they gradually grew apart. The phone calls became more distant as their feelings for each other faded progressively; and eventually, the inevitable happened. Blaine met someone. But Kurt could not even blame him. He was in a school for boys, some of them being obviously gay, and Blaine was just too handsome to go unnoticed. And he deserved someone who could be there for him. What surprised Kurt was that the whole situation seemed to weigh heavier on Blaine's shoulders than on his own. Blaine felt desperately guilty. They had never officially broken up, even if they were obviously not dating anymore; and Blaine could not forgive himself for falling for someone else; for doing that to Kurt, whom he cared so much about. And Kurt had tried to reassure him, tell him that he was ok with it, that it was how things were supposed to be. But it did little to make him feel better. And Kurt was not going to try too hard. After all, he was the one getting dumped in the end.

And so, Kurt found himself back to where he had started, alone and very lonely. Only now, he knew he was not the only gay at McKinley. And that was a major improvement. He was aware that Karofsky was not ready to come out publically yet, and that was completely understandable. But Kurt wanted to believe that he could help the boy come to terms with who he was. He could help him accept the fact that he was gay and live with it. Become kind of his mentor. But not like Blaine had been for him! There would be no romance involved. Not at all. Ew. Even if Kurt felt a bit lonely, he was not that desperate. But Karofsky needed guidance, and now that they were not enemies anymore, Kurt considered his duty to help him. He felt kind of responsible for him. But the main problem would be the reaction of his fellow Gleemates. They had all become overprotective of him and they would never let him near his ex nemesis. That was for sure. They would not be able to understand that he _needed _to help the boy. He saw in Karofsky who he had been before his coming out; someone insecure, who could not bring himself to accept that he was different from the other boys, who could not tell anyone.

But thinking of it, Kurt realised that when he was still in the closet, if some gay guy had come to him declaring that he could help him come to terms with his sexuality, Kurt would have told that person to go to hell, that he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much. Then, Karofsky, who was very impulsive, was more than likely going to rip his head off. Kurt was not going to push his luck.

**18 days**** ago…**

So, when he found himself in his car in front of McKinley High on a particularly sunny Monday morning, he had decided that he would not bother with Karofsky. If the boy wanted help, Kurt would help him. But until then, he would go on with his life and try to put up with his single status as best as he could. Like every other morning, Puck was waiting for him, casually leaning against the dumpsters. The jock had taken the position of Kurt's personal bodyguard. A very useless position if you asked Kurt, because Karofsky was staying away, but he said nothing. Anyway, it was not like Puck was leaving any say in the matter. And Kurt was not going to complain. He had spent so much time with Puck lately, that they had become real friends. At first they did not talk much, Puck was rather distant. But one day, as Kurt was taking some books from his locker, Puck spotted the last GTA video game for Xbox lying there. He was so shocked that Kurt had an Xbox and played video games that he refused to believe it was Kurt's. When the countertenor did not manage to convince the jock, he invited every males of Glee for a video game night and they spent the evening playing. From that night, Puck seemed to change his opinion on Kurt and they were practically attached at the hip. Kurt was even invited at Puck's and he had the pleasure to meet Puck's little sister, Sara. She was eight years old and a very sweet and beautiful little girl. She had become completely addicted to Kurt from the moment he complimented her on her clothes. Kurt was pleasantly surprised to see that Puck was completely smitten with her. So, Kurt got used to baby-sitting her with Puck, and Puck got used to coming over to Kurt's to play video games. It had become a routine.

Kurt got out of his car and, after one last check in the rear-view mirror to make sure he was flawless, he slowly made his way towards Puck. Kurt was not sure if the jock was aware of the fact that he was leaning against the very dumpster he used to throw Kurt in, in the past. If the Mohawk guy was, it was pretty smart of him, because now Kurt had to voluntarily walk there every morning to meet his former bully. How ironic. When he reached Puck, the jock put his right hand up in the air, waiting.

"I'm not high-fiving you, Puck. You know that." Kurt said, slowly walking towards the school gates.

Puck pouted, but his eyes were smiling. He had tried every single time they met, and Kurt had never surrendered. it had become their way of saying hello. The two friends walked in silence for a moment. But Puck was never quiet for long. He had always something to say.

"Sara asked if you would be here tomorrow night, Ma' took an extra shift at work and she won't make it home before midnight."

Kurt thought about it as they reached his locker. He had planned a shopping afternoon with 'Cedes and Tina, but nothing for the night.

"I'll tell the girls I have to leave early so I can make it before Sara goes to bed. But yeah, I will be there!"

Puck grinned.

"But I'll have to bring my homework, because I still have the History essay to finish." Kurt saw Puck's smile falter considerably. "But I heard that you have some Maths to do at home, I could take the opportunity to help you with that…"

Puck's smile was back. "Okay, but you bring your Xbox and Call of Duty."

"Then we also do our biology. Because, may I remind you that we are supposed to hand it back on Thursday."

Puck pondered for a moment and then agreed.

"You've got yourself a deal."

And they went to class. The day went smoothly. No slushy, no locker shoves (but those two were practically erased from Kurt's routine, now), and only one insult session from Azimio while Puck was in the restroom. It had been a great day. And now, they were heading to Glee practice while the rest of the students were going home. They were almost at the door, when Kurt spotted David Karofsky staring at him across the hall. What did he want? Kurt could not decipher the look on his face. It was a cold stare, but hey, Karosfky was always cold. Did he want to talk to Kurt? Was he simply lost in his thoughts? After a few seconds of reflection, Kurt was took a decision.

"I'll be right back."

He did not leave time for Puck to ask questions and made his way towards the jock. When Karofsky realised Kurt was coming his way, he turned to his locker and pretended to be looking for something.

"Hi"

Karofsky ignored him. No surprise there. But Kurt had made up his mind. He would give the boy a chance.

"I was wondering if we could talk. I mean… not today, I have practice. But you know, if you have questions or…" He was rambling. Damn. Karofsky was still unresponsive, and being ignored was one of the things Kurt hated the most. "You know what, go to hell! You know you should talk to someone, I'm offering you that right now. And still you won't take the chance! So, I'll go live my happy gay life, and you will keep on sulking over your pathetic excuse of a life because you can't even come to terms with who you are! Fine by me!"

Kurt was about to turn around and join Puck when a strong hand gripped his arm. He froze and immediately shoved the hand away.

"Sorry." The jock said, retracting his hand. "'didn't want to hurt you."

"No harm. It's just a stupid reflex of mine."

They looked at each other for a few seconds. Karofsky seemed to be struggling to take a decision. Kurt was suddenly not so sure he had had a good idea.

"Okay. You're right, I do need to talk."

The countertenor was a bit taken aback, but he did not show it. Instead, he just straightened his messenger bag on his shoulder.

"Alright then, I'm busy tomorrow, but what about we meet at the Lima Bean on Wednesday afternoon?"

"No. Not a public place."

Still no surprise. _Okay, time to use your best bitchy attitude, Kurt._

"Afraid of being seen with the resident gay of Lima? Well then you are not ready to talk about it. So, we might as well forget this conversation ever happened."

Once again, he made to walk back to Puck.

"I just don't want to be overheard, Jeez! Stop being such a Drama Queen, already!"

It was clear in his tone that he was not far from losing his temper, and Kurt caught sight of Puck approaching. Kurt turned to him and gestured him to stay where he was, he would be fine. Then, he turned again towards the jock.

"Okay then, where shall we meet? Clearly not at my house, my dad would rip your head off before you even reached the threshold. And I'm certainly not putting a foot in your house."

"What about the library, Wednesday after school?"

Kurt had to restrain himself from making a remark like _you know what a library is? _. Instead he just nodded.

"Half past four at the library, then?"

Puck was there the second they stopped talking. He put an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"We'll be late for practice, princess. Come on."

Kurt took one last glance at Karofsky.

"I'll see you Wednesday, okay?"

The jock just nodded. The two friends resumed their walk towards the choir room, making jokes and playfully poking the other in the ribs. Finally, just before entering the choir room, Puck asked,

"You sure about this?" He was clearly referring to his talk with Karofsky.

"I'm not sure about anything, Puck. It may be the worst idea I ever had. But I want to help him." He hesitated a few seconds and added. "You don't know what it's like to be in the closet. To be so scared of what people will think of you when you come out that you create a giant web of lies to avoid the truth. To live through your lies and they eat at you more and more everyday. I had to lie to my best friends and that's just not right…"

He suddenly realised he was not anymore talking about Karofsky, but about himself.

"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly, "I just really want to believe I can help him."

"'s fine, Kurt. I'm just not comfortable with leaving you alone with that dick."

"Then, maybe you could stay around the school Wednesday? And if I have a problem I call..."

He would never admit it, but he was not comfortable with meeting Karofsky alone either. The jock was just creepy. And knowing that Puck would be just a few metres away was very reassuring.

"I'll be waiting just outside the school. If you have a problem, or even just a doubt, text me 911 and I'll be there in less than a minute."

Kurt smiled at his friend.

"It's very kind of you, Puck. I'll do that. But I'm sure I'll be just fine!"

And they entered the choir room together.

If only Kurt had seen the look on Karofsky's face when Puck had called him "princess", or when he had put his arm around the countertenor's shoulders, or when they walked to join their Glee mates. If only he had seen that look of pure hatred, maybe he would have reconsidered his choice and he would have stayed away from the boy. And he would have been so right to do it. But neither he, nor Puck saw that look. And from here, things could only go from good to very, very bad.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hi there! From now on, I think I will update once a week, preferably on Sunday night.  
>I checked this chapter rather quickly before posting it, so there might be some mistakes, sorry by advance!<br>Enjoy!

**Present day…**

"Hey dude, 'must be the hundredth message I'm leaving you. You must have turned off your phone or something. So I'll say it again, Kurt is in the hospital, it's pretty bad and the doctors will be running some more tests because there are still doubts about his condition. He is… It's bad, Puck. And he won't talk; he hasn't said a word since yesterday. The last thing he said is your name, he wants to see you. He really needs you, man. So please, just call. Or come to the hospital. Please…"

Finn hung up and sighed. He was just outside the hospital because he had been kicked out by the receptionist after trying to make the phone call inside. _Do you want to kill the patients or what! _He had never understood why one couldn't use their phone inside a hospital. Maybe the waves might penetrate the patients' brain and kill some neurons in there.

It was still very early on a Sunday morning and Finn had not slept at all that night, but he was not tired in the least. Since the call he received from his mother on Friday evening, he had been able to rest his mind only a few hours. The situation was so surreal! One day, your life is completely normal and everything is fine, and the next your world comes crashing down. When his mother had told him that Kurt had just been admitted in the hospital, Finn had thought that he had been involved in a car accident, and even that was hard to believe because Kurt was a really good driver. Food poisoning was unconceivable as the boy was very careful about his health and made sure to only eat organic and healthy food. But he would have never imagined what he saw when he entered Kurt's room, once he had reached the hospital. His brother was barely recognisable. A giant bruise. That was the first description that came to his mind. For a moment he thought, or maybe hoped that he had the wrong room number. This just could not be Kurt. No. But then he had spotted Burt sitting next to the stranger's bed, crying silently. It was Kurt. He had suddenly had the urge to run from the room, from the hospital, from this town, and to go bury himself somewhere far away, somewhere safe. It was only the gentle hand of his mother which settled on his shoulder that kept him in place. So, he had slowly made his way to the side of the bed and held Kurt's hand, wanting him to wake up so they could talk. But then Burt had explained him that Kurt had not woken up yet. He was in a coma. At that moment, even his mother's hand could not prevent him from running out of the room. Kurt could not be in a coma. He was stronger than that, much stronger. So he had run, and run, and run. Once outside, he had puked his guts out and fallen on the floor, sobbing. His mother had come shortly after and they had talked a lot. She had explained the situation, told him that the injuries showed that Kurt must have been badly assaulted. And that they had to wait for him to wake up now. But the last part had scared Finn a lot because, who would want to wake up after what they had endured? And so, what if he didn't wake up? Now that they all lived together, Finn could hardly picture his life without his pain in the ass of a brother. They had talked a good part of the night and then, his mother had convinced him to go back up there and show support to Burt. Apparently, the old man needed it badly. And they had spent most of their Saturday waiting in Kurt's room. Waiting for a miracle. But no such thing happened. At least not while he and Carole were in the room. But as they were having dinner in the cafeteria, Burt tumbled there and announced,

"He's awake."

But he was not wearing the big smile he should have, considering the situation. Instead, he seemed utterly defeated. And, because Finn is an intelligent person, he understood that something was wrong. Apparently, his mother had understood too because she had hugged him without a word. And Burt had told them everything. It was clear at that moment that the nightmare was just beginning. Kurt was blind. He was remembering and he refused to talk to anyone.

And now they were waiting. Waiting for the doctors to run the tests. Waiting for Kurt to talk. And even if there was nothing to do, Finn could not bring himself to go home to get some rest. Instead, he had spent the night trying to reach Puck on the phone. Each time the jock did not answer his phone, Finn would leave a message, repeating over and over again the same things. He wanted to ask Santana if she knew where Puck was, but then he would have to explain the situation, and if Santana knew, everyone in Lima would know, and that's not what Burt and Carole wanted.

"Any luck?"

Finn turned around to face Burt and shook his head. He felt completely useless.

"His phone is still off."

"You did everything you could, kiddo. Stop calling him."

That was so not the truth, Finn knew it. If he had been with Kurt when the boy was attacked, none of this would have happened. He could have defended him. Because, he may not be the smartest guy on earth, but he was strong enough to defend the ones he loved. He felt like he had abandoned his own brother. _Don't cry, Finn. Don't fucking cry in front of Burt, he doesn't need that right now. _He had to do something or he would go crazy.

"I was thinking, maybe I could call Santana. She is close to Puck, maybe she could know something."

"No. Don't bother with Puck anymore. I think he would have already come if he wanted to."

Burt's tone was angry. He seemed to be holding a big grudge against Puck. And the truth was, Finn was mad at him too. The guy should have been there already, holding Kurt's hand. He was supposed to be one of his closest friends.

"Carole threatened me into going home for a while to eat something and get some rest. Wanna come?"

"No thanks. I think I'm gonna stay here with my mum."

Burt sighed. He came closer and put a hand on Finn's shoulder.

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

Finn smiled weakly, but he could not look at Burt in the eyes when he answered.

"Yeah, I know."

He felt like the worst person on earth right now.

They both went back inside because Burt wanted to talk to Finn's mom before he left. As the quarterback made his way through the door of the room, he was once again shocked by the state Kurt was in. He seemed so small lying there in his bed, his eyes opened but unfocused. It was so disturbing. Kurt was usually so full of life. It was like someone had turned off the light in his eyes, the spark that used to enlighten them was missing. Finn sat down next to the boy and just looked at him for a moment before remembering to announce his presence.

"Hey man, it's me. Err… It's Finn. Sorry."

What do you say to someone in this situation? It's not like they could have a conversation. But he had to try anyway.

"I… I know you don't talk right now, but… I just wanted you to know that we're here for you. And if you need anything, just, just ask, okay?"

He did not want to tell him that Puck had yet to show up. Quite the contrary, Kurt needed to know that people were supporting him, and his family would do everything they could to make things better. Even if… How could things ever get better after what had happened? It was like the world had changed from a very welcoming place into the most terrifying thing ever. If someone as kind-hearted and sweet as Kurt could attract such hatred that some insane people would practically kill him. How could anyone get over this? Finn sniffed, fighting back tears. _Don't cry, damn it. _If only he had been with Kurt on Friday afternoon… He wanted to hold the boy's hand, but Burt had told them that Kurt had been pushing away from any form of physical contact since he had stopped talking. Since he had remembered.

"I don't know what happened to you. I… I wasn't there and for that I'm so, so sorry." He all but whispered the last part. "I should have protected you."

A sob escaped his lips, and he finally let the tears roll freely down his cheeks, because what was the point in holding them back? Kurt was still not reacting, but a single tear escaped his left eye and slowly made its way down the pillow.

Outside the room, Finn could hear Burt talking to his mother.

"Kurt is attacked and that son of a bitch vanishes. Can't be a coincidence."

There a moment of silence before Burt added.

"They had a fight on Friday, you know? I heard them, and after that Kurt was devastated. And everyone knows that prank can easily lose his temper. If I hear it's him, God protect him, 'cause when I find him he will regret the day he was born."

They were clearly talking about Puck. Finn heard his mother sigh. He knew his mother well enough to know that it was a thing she did when she disagreed but did not want to upset the other part.

"I've known that boy his entire life, Burt." She finally said. "He would never do that. Yes, he used to bully Kurt, but he would never cause so much damage to someone weaker than him. He is too proud."

Burt grunted, clearly unsatisfied with this answer. His mother resumed her argumentation.

"Besides, I don't know if you have seen the both of them together lately, but they are like an item. It was even disturbing at times."

Disturbing? Finn had not seen anything disturbing in their friendship. Yes, at first, he had feared that Kurt was once again falling for a straight guy, but they had talked and Kurt had been very clear, it was just friendship.

"I spotted them in the kitchen one day, they thought they were alone." It was his mother again. "Kurt was baking and Noah was sitting on the counter, watching. You should have seen the look on the boy's face; he was in total awe, and not from Kurt's cooking, even if he is pretty talented. Noah seemed completely mesmerized by Kurt. And Kurt was so oblivious to it all, it was endearing." She laughed sadly.

What? Where did that come from? Puck _mesmerized_? Finn turned to Kurt suspiciously, but of course, the boy had not moved an inch. He leaned on the bed and whispered.

"You can be lucky you don't talk… Or maybe "lucky" isn't exactly the best term to use. But anyway, you'll have some serious explaining to do when you really wake up." And with one last glare at his brother, he straightened himself to resume his listening.

"What I mean is that I can't imagine Noah hurting Kurt in any way, he is too fond of the boy."

"Then, why isn't he here to support his friend? He is the only person Kurt asked to see. I'm sorry but I won't erase him from my suspect list until he is in front of me claiming he didn't do it and he is sorry for not showing up sooner."

It was clear that the conversation was over. And things were not looking good for Puck. But Finn knew it was not him. Puck would never do that to any of his friends. He had to warn him. Quickly making his way to the bathroom not to be seen or heard, he reached for his phone in his pocket.

"Dude, me again. Listen, you have to come. Kurt's father is getting suspicious. If you don't show up quickly, you will be suspect number one. And that would be so stupid because I know it wasn't you. Tomorrow, I have to tell the Glee club about what happened, and if you are still missing, everybody will suspect you. Please man, just get in touch already. I won't leave messages anymore. It's up to you now." And he hung up.

Where could he be? Why wasn't he calling back? He was putting himself in a very perilous situation. But thinking of it, Puck had always put himself in perilous situations since he was a kid. That was his mode of operation. And he always ended up fine, one way or another. Let's just hope this time would not be any different.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Guys, so sorry for the delay! I had a really hard time writing this chapter. But it's all yours now! Hope you like!  
>I have one slight problem though, I have NO IDEA what you think about my story! Is it good? bad? Please, tell me! It's slightly discouraging to have no one reviewing... Please?<p>

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>17 days ago…<strong>

When he rang the bell of Puck's house on Tuesday evening, Kurt had not expected to be knocked down by a small brunette who jumped in his arms as soon as the door opened. From what Puck told him, Sara had been waiting behind the door a whole hour for him to arrive. It was now a quarter to nine and the little girl had refused to be showered by his brother because she wanted Kurt to play barbie with her in the bathroom and to pick her outfit for the next day. How could you refuse anything to such a manipulative mini version of Puck? So, he accepted and she immediately took his hand to lead him to the bathroom.

"Come on Princess, let's go!" She said happily, not noticing the icy glare Kurt shot Puck.

Puck just shrugged, doing his best to hide a smile.

"She must have heard me on the phone, sorry." Puck would never admit that he called Kurt "princess" all the time, even when the boy was not there. He had his pride.

After Sara got out of the shower and brushed her teeth, Kurt combed her hair while trying to convince her to let her curls fall down her shoulders when she goes to school because her hair was too magnificent to be hidden in a ponytail. But the girl would not have any of it.

"But when I tie it up in a ponytail, I look older. And I want to look like a grown up. I will never find a boyfriend if boys think I'm five years old."

It was a lost cause.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" She asked out of nowhere.

_Oops, wrong question_. Kurt was not very comfortable in having this conversation with an eight year-old girl.

"Nope. No, I don't. And I'm not really looking for one."

Simple answer, not disturbing, one that should not lead to a big awkward conversation. Kurt mentally patted himself on the shoulder. But hey, she was Puck's sister, it was impossible to predict what was going on in that curly head of hers.

"Then you have a boyfriend. Because, you can't be single."

_Okay… Wow. Thanks Puck._

"You talked with your brother." He said in a knowing tone.

"Yeah, but it was a while ago. I wanted to be your girlfriend because all the boys in my class were mean and you're awesome." Kurt was not blushing. No, he was not. "But Noah told me that you were not into that kind of relationship. I don't understand, what does that mean?"

The conversation was now inevitable. Kurt just hoped she would not hate him after he said it all.

"Well, what Noah meant was that I don't really want to have relationships with girls. I… I prefer boys." _And I'm so desperate and horny that I secretly fantasize about Neil Patrick Harris and his boyfriend sneaking into my room and… _But he was not about to tell her that. _Get a hold of yourself, Kurt._

Sara looked confused for a few minutes and Kurt feared for the worst.

"So, you're… gay? That's the right word, isn't it?"

To say Kurt was surprised would have been the understatement of the year.

"Yes, how do you know all that?"

"Because the other day at school, Anthony Gordon was making fun of the new boy because he was wearing weird clothes – well, he was dressed a lot like you, but I think it's real cool – and he said a word like "queer" and our teacher was mad at him, so after break he explained to all of us that some people are attracted to people of the same gender, and that it is okay because you can't control love. And he said that when a man likes another man he was gay."

"And are you okay with that?"

Sara nodded.

"Yes I am, because if all the gay guys are like you, then I want to be friend with every one of them so I'll be the best dressed girl in the world." She rubbed her eyes tiredly and yawned. "But I hope they are nice like you."

She was just endearing. Kurt was thrilled she was that open-minded. He took her to bed and sang her a lullaby. Even if she was already eight, she often asked Kurt to sing her to sleep. She said he had the perfect voice for a lullaby. So he never said no because he would not pass a chance to sing, especially for a girl as adorable as Sara.

"Sleep now, okay?"

He got up and reached the door, flicking the lights off.

"Kurt?" She said, already half asleep. The boy turned towards her.

"Yes, Sleepy-head?"

"I'm sure you'll find a boyfriend soon. It would be such a waste if you didn't… That's what Noah said." She rolled in her bed and fell asleep immediately.

_Okay, that was… weird. _Kurt silently got out of the room and closed the door. Puck and he were great friends now, but he was not aware that the boy had such regard towards him. It felt good to be appreciated for who he was!

He made his way downstairs where Puck had already plugged the Xbox and was playing like mad, yelling at his character because he was not running fast enough. He died in less than a minute.

"Screw you!" He said to the screen that now wrote _Game Over_ in big red letters, clearly fighting his need to throw the joystick across the room.

Kurt was tempted to remind his friend that they had a deal concerning their homework, but given what he had heard from Sara, he was willing to let it slide for tonight. He settled down on the couch next to Puck and took the other game controller.

"The Monster wasn't too annoying, was she?" He said, not removing his eyes from the TV.

"She was very sweet." He answered smiling. "But I fear she will turn into the most impulsive and arrogant brat that has ever walked the earth, because it's obvious that she is a smaller version of her brother…"

Puck turned and poked him in the ribs, laughing.

"Hey, don't say that! When she grows up she will be the coolest kid in freakin' Lima!"

"I'm sure she will." Kurt said, remembering their conversation. "Make sure she doesn't grow up too fast, though."

They played for a while and Kurt kicked Puck's ass every chance he got. The look on his friend's face was just priceless.

"You're cheating; there is no way you could keep winning if you were playing fair."

Kurt snorted.

"You're so full of yourself! I play better than you that's all, you have to admit it."

There was a bit of silence, before Puck muttered in a very child-like tone,

"I'm sure you're cheating."

At that, Kurt burst into laughter, joined shortly after by Puck.

They played a little while longer, and Kurt finally reminded Puck of the deal they had made. He knew was killing the mood, but they had to work if they wanted to maintain their grades. Not that Puck bothered much with his grades, but Kurt did. And he was proud to think that it was thanks to him that Puck stopped ditching his Maths lessons. So they started with Puck's Maths, and it took Kurt around an hour to make sure Puck had understood what he was doing. The problem was not Puck's intelligence, because the boy was very smart. But he had focusing issues; he was incapable of concentrating more than ten minutes in a row.

They finally managed to get rid of their homework and by half past eleven, they were both celebrating with a soda in hand. Kurt had promised his dad he would be home by midnight, so that left him around fifteen minutes before having to take off.

"So," Puck said, interrupting Kurt's trail of thoughts, "What are you and your new friend Karofsky going to talk about tomorrow?"

He had this tone of voice that he used when he was mocking someone.

"I won't have this conversation with you if you are going to make fun of me, Puck." Because Kurt really hated that tone of voice when used against him.

"Okay, sorry. But seriously, what are you planning for tomorrow? Because, it's not like you can teach him how to be gay, right? I mean, someone cannot _learn _to be gay… Right?

Kurt burst into laughter, not able to contain himself.

"What?" Puck asked, clearly annoyed, "What is so funny?"

"You!" Kurt replied, wiping his eyes, "You and your hesitation! Like you are really wondering if he can be taught _how to be gay_! Of course I can't teach him that!"

He stopped talking for a few seconds to calm down and catch his breath. The conversation was serious; he had to answer honestly and seriously.

"I don't want to teach him anything, Puck. I want to educate him. And honestly, I have no idea how I'm going to do that. But I guess I will mainly answer his questions."

Puck stayed quiet for a while, probably registering. But Kurt knew there was something else.

"Say it, Puck. I know you have something you want to say. Just spill it out."

"It's just, I don't get you." He said, standing up. "The guy bullied you for years, he insulted you, manhandled you. He threatened to fucking kill you, Kurt! And you kindly offer to help him overcome his doubts and answer his questions. What's your point?"

By the end of his tirade, he was practically yelling. So Kurt just stood up, glared icily at him and said,

"I'm going to the bathroom, right now. If you are more put together when I come back, we can resume the conversation. If not, I'm leaving. It's up to you." And he left the room.

He hated fighting with Puck, but there was nothing he disliked more than being talked to like that. And Puck had the tendency to lose his temper fairly quickly. So, he really did go upstairs to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. On his way back down, he checked on Sara who was sleeping peacefully, curled up in her bed. When he re-entered the living-room, Puck was packing the X-box and Kurt's school books because he knew the young boy's curfew.

"Thanks," Kurt said softly to announce himself.

Puck turned his head and smiled. His eyes turned towards Kurt's legs.

"Nice jeans. New?"

Kurt's eyes lit up immediately and a huge smile brightened his face.

"You noticed! Yes, I bought them this afternoon with Tina and 'Cedes. I love them, but I don't know if I'm going to wear them at school, dad said it's too tight and shows too much forms."

Because yes, it was tight. Very tight. But it was the last All Saints collection and Kurt had fallen for it the moment he landed his eyes on it. And he had to say it suited him perfectly.

"Your dad's too old school, they look fine on you."

"Thank you!" Kurt said, blushing slightly. He loved compliments, but like everyone they made him ill at ease. "I had hesitated with a pair of Alexander McQueen ripped jeans, but 'Cedes was doubtful, she said it didn't look like me, so we looked for something more Kurt-like…"

And he went on and on about his shopping trip. While talking, he realised that Puck had voluntarily dodged the Karofsky conversation, but Kurt was more than okay with it. He hated so much to fight with his friend. Their little chit-chat lasted longer than expected, and Kurt had to leave in a hurry, calling his dad on his way home to apologize and assure him he was almost there.

Once home, while going through his moisturizing routine, Kurt's thoughts drifted to the next day and his meeting with his ex bully. What if Puck was right? What if Kurt was being too forgiving with the jock? After all, Karofsky had been nothing but awful to him before he transferred to Dalton. No, Kurt would give him a chance. And depending on what happened tomorrow, he would or would not keep on helping the jock. It was with that state of mind that Kurt went to bed, hoping everything would be okay.

As it turned out, neither he nor Puck had to worry about anything getting out of hand. Indeed, on Wednesday afternoon, Kurt waited in the library for over an hour, but David never showed up. Puck was just outside in the hall, turning around aimlessly or playing Angry Birds on his phone. He waited patiently for Kurt to join him so they could go grab a coffee at Starbucks. It was the one place that could make Kurt feel better when he was mad. And as he hated being stood up, he would definitely need it. The door of the library swung open and Kurt stormed out, silently confirming Puck's thoughts. The Jewish boy was about to say something, but Kurt put his hand in the air to stop him.

"Just don't, Puck."

"Hey, you don't even know what I want to say!"

That got him an icily glare from the countertenor.

"Then, what?"

Puck eyed him sheepishly. Kurt was such a drama queen, it was endearing!

"Grande non-fat mocha?" He offered, knowing fully well that Kurt would not refuse.

The boy just huffed and strode away towards the parking lot. Puck smiled – he knew his friend so well – and followed him.

They were both in Kurt's car, midway to Starbucks, when they received a message at the same time. It could only mean one thing, it was a Gleek texting them.

"Drive, I'll read it aloud." Puck said, reaching for his mobile in his pocket.

He opened the message, read it briefly and snorted.

"It's Rachel. She throws a party on Friday night, just the Gleeks. She says _"I am aware that some of our fellow Gleemates can't have a good time without a certain amount of alcohol. So I propose every one brings something to drink, and I take care of the food. But if anyone breaks something in the house, they will have to pay for the damage. Have a good day and prepare yourself to have some fun on Friday night! Rachel."_ And she has managed to find a star symbol to put after her signature."

Kurt pondered for a moment.

"Well, last time I went to a party at Rachel's, Blaine got so drunk that I had to take him home with me, and my dad lectured me about having boys in my bed without asking him first."

"Well, there is no risk of that happening considering he broke up with you." Puck answered on instinct. But the look of pure hatred that he received from Kurt made him think twice.

"Thank you for the reminder, Puckerman! And for the record, it's not how it happened. Blaine didn't break up with _me_, _we_ broke up _together_, by mutual agreement."

"Sorry, man! What I'm saying is, you won't have problems this time, so you might as well go and enjoy. I know I'm going. Even if last time, I woke up in Rachel's guest room, naked in bed with Santana, even if I had sworn to myself I would never sleep with her again."

Kurt looked at Puck, intrigued.

"Why did you make that promise? I'm not into girls, but I heard she is a very good lay."

Puck snorted at that.

"Yeah, right. Well, she is. But the girl only brings problems. And she is mean all the time, even when se's having sex! So I decided, I'm through with her. But when I get wasted, if I see something I want, I go for it, no matter the consequences. So this time, if I go, you do too so you can keep an eye on me."

Kurt smiled.

"That's a pathetic excuse to make me come to the party. But fine, I'll go. I will have to sleep there though, because I won't have fun without Blaine if I'm sober."

"What the hell, dude!" Puck replied, affronted. "I'll be there, remember?"

"Don't _dude _me, Puck. And you always spend the night hitting on everything with a vagina! So, I'm sorry, but I'm not planning on spending my time with you."

Surprisingly, Puck burst into laughter.

"So true! Sorry, I will try to spend some… some _girl-less_ time with you, then."

"I think you just massacred the English language…" But Kurt said it with a smile. The idea of spending some time with a wasted Puck was strangely appealing. He had never really talked to the guy when he had drunk. It could be fun.

By the time they had texted back to Rachel to confirm their coming; Kurt had parked the car in the parking lot of Starbucks. They quietly walked to the coffee shop, thinking about what Friday night would bring. Some fun time? Or more drama? Because, with the Gleeks it was impossible to know by advance…

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><p>Review! )<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I cannot express to you how sorry I am for the looong delay. But strangely enough, I had the hardest time ever writing this chapter.  
>But anyway, here is chapter 6, enjoy, and of course, don't forget to review! )<p>

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><p><strong>Present day…<strong>

Finn was standing nervously by the piano, waiting for his Gleemates to fill in the choir room. He did not really want to do this, but he knew it was the best way to announce everyone. Miss Pillsbury and Mr Schue had talked to Burt for over an hour this morning. And after a while, Finn had been asked in. They had proposed him to be the one telling the Glee club what had happened to Kurt. Miss Pillsbury had explained that he was not required to, but the announce would be less devastating if it was one of Kurt's close friends making it rather than a random guidance counsellor. And Finn had said yes. Of course, he would. But now that he was standing there, facing his oblivious and smiling friends, ready to turn their world upside down, he was getting nervous. So he waited until everyone was there, and already some of his friends were giving him strange looks. It was Monday morning and Mr Schue had called an emergency meeting before classes started. It was best to tell everyone now rather than wait all day.

Mr Schue appeared next to him with a sad look on his face. He had seemed so shocked and defeated when he had heard the news. But he had assured Finn that he would be there if the boy needed help telling his friends.

"Yes, Mercedes?" Mr Schuester said, and Finn looked up to see everyone except for Kurt and Puck sitting in their usual seats, an expectant look on their face. Mercedes had raised her hand.

"Don't misunderstand me, I'm glad that we are all gathered here this morning, but what is the point exactly?"

There it was. The moment Finn dreaded. Mr Schue looked at him and gestured for him to speak.

"Err..." The boy cleared his throat awkwardly, "hum... As you might have noticed, Kurt is not here this morning."

He should not have stopped, but he looked up for a fraction of a second to see their reaction. And indeed, no one was looking around in search of Kurt, they had all noticed his absence. Mercedes shot him a wary look.

"Where is he, Finn?"

Finn turned his eyes towards his Spanish teacher who gave him a small encouraging nod of the head.

"He is, err... Something happened, and..." His voice was shaking.

Mercedes jumped from her chair. She looked terrified.

"What exactly happened?" She asked hastily.

Finn felt a lump forming in his throat. His heart was beating like mad and he had trouble breathing. It was so hard. He should not have to do that. It should have never happened. This was all so wrong!

"It happened last Friday, he... he was..." No. He just couldn't do it. He turned to his teacher once more, shaking frantically his head. "I'm sorry Mr Schue, I... I just can't do this."

Mr Schuester nodded and patted his shoulder in a vein attempt at comforting him. He gestured to Finn to take a chair and took his place, in the middle of the room.

"It's bad, guys. I'm sorry I have to tell you this. Kurt was attacked on Friday afternoon. We don't know exactly where, we don't know who did it."

"Attacked how?" It was Artie asking.

"He was beaten, pretty badly. He is at the hospital right now."

A sob escaped Tina and Quinn's lips. Mercedes was frozen on the spot. Mike had his brows furrowed in anger and confusion, just like Sam. Lauren and Santana were looking down, their expressions unreadable. And Rachel, well Rachel was silently crying on her seat, looking utterly defeated. Brittany was the only one not reacting at all.

"How is he?" Sam asked softly, "Is he conscious?"

Mr Schue was hesitant.

"Well, I know he is awake, but I don't know the details of his condition."

Finn stood up from his chair. He was the only one who could answer the questions. Mr Schuester had already been very helpful. He had to do it.

"He is conscious, but badly injured. Couple of broken ribs, a lot of cuts and bruises all over his body. He had some internal bleeding, so he was taken into surgery as soon as he arrived on Friday night. He can't really move right now, it must hurt too much."

"You don't know?" Mercedes asked. Apparently, she was getting mad. "I mean, you said he's awake, and he didn't tell you if it hurts or not?"

Finn gulped loudly.

"He's not really talking to me, to us. In fact, he's not really talking at all. To anyone. Burt told us that Kurt talked when he regained consciousness, but after a while he just stopped. The doctors said it's because he is in shock."

The room fell silent for a while, everyone processing what had been said. But Finn was not finished, and the sooner it was all out the better.

"There is one more thing, though." He said, catching everyone's attention again. "I don't really know how to say it, so I'll go simple, I guess. According to the doctors, what happened to Kurt was a lot to take for his mind. It was a bit too much. And that's why he... he can't see for now."

The Gleeks were making weird faces, they did not understand. A few "_what?"_ echoed in the room.

"What do you mean 'he can't see'?" Santana asked.

"He's lost his sight." Finn tried to explain. "He's blind."

That did it. A heavy silence settled in the room, as everyone was looking at Finn with wide eyes. Rachel had her face shining with tears. Mercedes fell back on her chair. Everyone was in shock except for Brittany, who was still impassive. Finn was intrigued; he had expected the girl to be the most upset. Mr Schuester had apparently noticed too.

"Brittany?" Everyone looked up at her as the teacher said gently, "Did you hear what we just said?"

"Yes" She answered simply, apparently surprised to have become the centre of attention.

"And you're not upset?" Mercedes looked outraged.

"No, because I know it's not true."

"Wh - what?"

"You are making up an excuse so that we can meet here this morning and have one more rehearsal. That's all."

"No, of course not. There will be no rehearsal this morning. Kurt was attacked, Brittany. He is in the hospital. And there will be no rehearsal this afternoon either. Because, I don't think it would be appropriate, and nobody – me included – would have their heart into it."

But Brittany did not seem to understand.

"No." She replied, shaking her head. "I know Kurt was not attacked, it's not possible. I saw him on Friday, he was fine, more than fine. I was with him in the parking lot. He was on the phone talking to someone, and I walked him to his car, because Puck ordered everyone to make sure he is never alone.

Finn registered what she had just said. If she was telling the truth, then she was the last person who had seen him before it happened.

"He was on the phone? With who?"

"I don't know, a guy maybe."

"What were they talking about?" Finn asked impatiently. It could be very important.

"I can't really remember. But it's none of your business. People get mad at me when I repeat what they told me. I don't want to fight with Kurt, he is always nice to me."

Finn sighed exasperatingly. The way Brittany thinks and sees the world was usually endearing, but right now it was slowing them down. Santana leaned in her chair to be closer to her friend.

"Sweetie, you can tell us what he said, he won't be mad, I promise."

Brittany visibly relaxed at Santana's words and she smiled at the girl. She hesitated a few more seconds and looked back at Finn.

"Okay then. I think he was going to meet someone, a guy I think. The person had a problem, or was upset, I don't really know, and he asked Kurt to meet him. I don't know where."

"Okay. It could be the attacker."

"Whose attacker?" Brittany asked, perplexed, as if Finn was not making any sense.

"Kurt's attacker." Santana answered softly. The tension in the room was evident, and she did not want anyone snapping at Brittany. But the blonde girl was not processing the informations correctly.

"Stop talking about that like it's true, it's not!" She was getting upset. "Kurt was not attacked, he is too nice, sweet and cute and he dresses too well! Nobody could ever want to hurt him, even the jocks have stopped!"

She had stood up in her anger. It was surreal; nobody had ever seen Brittany that upset. She never yelled.

"Brittany," Mr Schue tried, but the young cheerio cut him off.

"No!" She said, running towards the door, "I don't want to hear it!"

And just like that, she was gone.

Burt was miserable. He had only left the hospital twice since Kurt got here, to take a quick shower, change clothes and come back as fast as possible. He did not want to stay away from his son. Carole had never seen him like this. He was a mess. Barely talking, never leaving the room, his eyes glued to the bed where his beaten son was lying, still unresponsive. Kurt had not uttered a word for over two days now and she wasn't even there when he had. In fact, she had not heard him since Friday morning, during breakfast. He had been gleefully humming that morning; his beautiful voice echoing softly in the kitchen. It was a thing he did when he was in a good mood, and Carole was positive that he never really realised he was singing. Nothing could have prepared anyone to what was about to happen. And now this wonderful boy was reduced to a bruised and empty shell, not moving, not talking, barely blinking his unseeing eyes from time to time. It was just surreal. Even if she was a nurse and she worked on wounded patients every day, she had never seen this. Post-traumatic blindness was practically a myth. Sure, it existed when it was due to a blow to the head. And despite the numerous blows he received to the head, it was not what triggered his visual loss. No, it was worse. It was the shock, the pain, the fear. The idea that he might not make it through the day, that this monster might kill him and leave him there. She had had numerous psychology classes during her intern-ship. To know how to handle this kind of victims. And now she was facing one of these victims. But it was not anybody. It was Kurt, her husband's son, an extraordinary boy who advised her everyday on her wardrobe and dragged her shopping when he had decided that she really needed it. How would they have these privileged moments now that he couldn't see? Was he even going to be able to pick his life back together after what happened? He was a strong boy, there was no doubt about it. But they still didn't know exactly what he had been through. And it could be worse than they thought.

The police came on Friday night, but Kurt was unconscious. They came back on Saturday after a call from the hospital stating that Kurt was awake. But despite their attempts, Kurt remained silent. Everybody tried to make him understand that the chances for his attacker to get arrested would be more important if Kurt testified, but to no avail. Kurt would not talk. Or move. Or even cry. And the more time Carole spent in the room with just him, the more she felt like she was alone.

Sneaking into the hospital was so easy. There weren't many people at this hour of the night, and the receptionist had her back to him, fighting with the photocopier. So he quickly walked past the front desk and toward the stairs. He knew Kurt's room number; he just had to find it. He needed to see the boy so much; his guilt and his fear had been replaced by this desire to see him again. He reached the top of the stairs and opened the door that led to the corridor of the third floor. He must be somewhere around here. But as he started walking along the hall, searching for the room in question, his hesitation kicked in.

He had no right to be here.

Not after what had happened. His knuckles hadn't stopped hurting like fuck since Friday. He had been so angry he could have killed. He had not come home that night, even if he knew it was a bad idea. But now that he had had time to clear his mind, he had decided to go see Kurt. The boy would surely yell at him and demand he get out, but after what he had done, he could understand.

Room 342. There it was.

He stopped a moment to consider his options. Should he enter? Should he get the hell out of here and never come back? But as his mind was racing with the biggest dilemma he had ever had to deal with, his eyes darted to the porthole on the door of Kurt's room and landed on the small slender figure lying in the bed, all alone. His heart skipped a beat. _Shit. _Kurt was just unrecognisable. His face was different, like not the same shape as before. But he could not see clearly from where he was. _Decision made. _He peered through the porthole one more time to make sure Kurt was alone. He didn't need to be assaulted by a furious father. But the room was clear. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door slowly. The room was completely silent. He noticed that Kurt was not wired to any electrocardiograms or any other shit. So he must be getting better, just sleeping. He made his way around the bed and silently sat on the chair, on the right of the sleeping boy. But as he studied his face from closer, he had to suppress a gasp. Kurt's face was covered with bruises. Cuts and bruises all over. And one of his eyes was so swollen it was like it was missing. He would have loved to take Kurt's hand, but it was in a huge cast that took his hand all the way up to above his elbow. And even if he couldn't see the rest of his body, he was positive it was not any better.

Tentatively and _oh so _slowly, he put his hand on the cast, patting it gently to silently announce his presence. Kurt did not have the reaction he had expected. He jolted awake with a loud gasp, his good eye open wide. His breathing turned uneven as he tried to crawl away from him. _Fuck._

"Kurt, stop! Kurt!"

Kurt stilled instantly. His breathing was still laboured, but his panic seemed to be gone.

"…Puck?" He asked with a hoarse voice. His good eye wasn't focused on him. Actually, his eye wasn't focused at all. But his expression turned very sad, and it literally broke Puck's heart.

"It's me, Princess. 'M sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out."

Kurt slowly settled back on his bed, but not without a hiss of pain. He breathed in deeply, closing his eye to try and relax a little. Puck watched him carefully, unsure of what to do or say. But as he was about to open his mouth, Kurt turned his back to him and whispered,

"I think you should leave, I don't want you here, right now."

"Wh – what?" Puck had not expected that. "Kurt, please look at me. I'm here for you right now. Finn called me and told me you wanted to see me. Kurt, I… I'll leave if it's really what you want, but at least look at me, please."

Kurt slowly turned around, grimacing from the pain. His eyes were directed in Puck's direction, but it was like they were looking right through him. What the fuck?

"Even if I wanted to look at you, I can't." He answered weakly, not giving further details. "And yes, I needed you. But that was three days ago." His voice was shaking by now. "Now I just want to be left alone. Please Puck, do this for me. Just… go, please."

And he quietly broke down, sobbing silently in his bed. The sight was completely heartbreaking. Puck felt completely helpless as he watched his friend cry. Why hadn't he come on Friday, when he listened to the first message Finn had left him? But he had been completely devastated by the news. He had found himself more furious than he had ever been in his whole life. He couldn't have gone to see Kurt in such a state. He had punched and kicked every object that came across his way: walls, dustbins, dumpsters, etc. He had punched until his hand hurt so bad that he couldn't move it anymore. And then, he had cried his heart out, not able to cope with what had happened. It was like this all weekend; until he finally realized that Kurt was waiting for him at the hospital. He had to turn his phone on and go. But as he listened to every new message Finn had left him, he understood that it would be harder a task than he thought. If Burt was mad at him, he would have to wait for the right time. And it happened to be on Monday evening, when the man was in the cafeteria with Finn's mom.

"Before I go, can you tell me what happened?"

Kurt visibly tensed.

"I – I don't remember." It was barely a whisper.

"Kurt, I just wanna help you. Did you see who did it?"

Kurt's breathing got laboured and uneven. He was panicking again.

"I don't want to talk about it. I – I just want to forget, okay?"

Puck watched his friend intently. Kurt was scared, it was evident. This little bit of information confirmed Puck's suspicions.

"It was _him_, wasn't it?"

A broken sob escaped the poor boy's lips as he shook frantically his head.

"Please, stop... Please, just leave me alone. I'm begging you..."

In that instant, Puck had to do an amazing work on himself not to cry. His boy was broken. The amazing and talented boy who could light up the room with his smile and voice was gone, replaced with a shell of who he used to be. Puck could only hope that his Kurt was somewhere inside his mind, and that it would not take too long to have him back.

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll be in the hall, right by the door. If you need anything, just call, okay?"

He didn't wait for Kurt to answer – knowing he would not – and left the room.

When Burt came back up from the cafeteria, he was surprised to see someone in his son's room. The Mohawk was unmistakable. He decided to give the boy a chance, given that if he had been the one to hurt Kurt, he would not have come here. So, he leaned against the wall by the door, and patiently waited for Puck to come out. He wanted to have a conversation with the boy, but for now, Kurt and Puck needed a moment alone, and he would respect that.

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